


Love Me, Love My Dog

by DropsOfAutumn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 101 Kosmotians, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Meet-Cute, Third Time's A Charm, blink and you'll miss the 101 Dalmatian reference, handsome stranger Shiro, matchmaking Kosmo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 12:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19869658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfAutumn/pseuds/DropsOfAutumn
Summary: The stranger stops right in front of him, panting for breath, his glasses dangerously close to slipping from his nose. Keith is too distracted by the chest in front of him (and that outline of a firm bicep, oh boy) he does not notice when the stranger speaks at first. What gets him, though, is when the stranger lifts his arm, pointing his finger at Kosmo. Following the gaze, he locks gazes with Kosmo. Kosmo, who is still wagging his tail full of pride.“Is this your dog?” Fuck him, that stranger has a nice voice.Or: That one Sheith Meet-Cute where they meet in a park and Kosmo is a good boy who loves to play matchmaker





	Love Me, Love My Dog

**Author's Note:**

> This [Twitter thread](https://twitter.com/DropsofAutumn/status/1150437605101715456) hit me on a Sunday afternoon and kind of escalated. Well. 
> 
> As much as I love the 101 Dalmatians reference, it was not intended at first. But that does not mean I don't love it dearly ♡ 
> 
> As always, biggest thank you to the best [PiscesDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesDragon/) for beta reading ♡  
> Also a big thank you for everyone who kept reading it on Twitter and enduring my typos.  
> Have fun! :)

The first time they meet, it’s anything but climatic. On their usual evening stroll, Keith is so lost in his thoughts, he totally misses how Kosmo wanders off. It’s not unusual — his dog is allowed to be unleashed in this part of the park. Kosmo sometimes just walks off, only to return with a particularly big stick between his teeth.   
  
Keith should know something is off, though, when Kosmo returns this time. Not with a stick – but with a thick book. And followed by a voice shouting “Stop the dog!”    
  
For the record, Keith does not stop the dog. What does stop though, is his ability to speak and to form coherent sentences. And to think of anything but the gorgeous man with tousled white hair and a broad and muscular chest hidden beneath a black Henley that might be the slightest bit too tight.   
  
He does not notice at first when Kosmo sits down at his feet, triumphantly wagging his tail.   
  
The stranger stops right in front of him, panting for breath, his glasses dangerously close to slipping from his nose. Keith is so distracted by the chest in front of him ( _ and that outline of a firm bicep, oh boy _ ) he does not notice when the stranger speaks at first. What gets his attention, though, is when the stranger lifts said biceps (Keith gulps), pointing his finger at Kosmo. Following the gaze, he locks gazes with Kosmo. 

Kosmo, who is still wagging his tail full of pride.   
  
“It this your dog?”  _ Fuck him, that stranger has a nice voice. _

  
Later, Keith laughs about how he managed to not make an utter fool of himself, but the way he stumbles over his words can be considered awkward to say the least.    
  
“Yeah, yeah.... Sorry. Kosmo, let go of the book. Bad dog.“ It does not take a lot of persuasion for Keith to get the book, he only has to kneel down and open his hand in demand. 

  
“I’m sorry, he just loves fetching.”   
  
Just when Keith hands the book over, slick with his dogs spit, their fingers touch.    
  
It’s the slightest whisper of a touch, fingertips grazing soft skin. And it would leave Keith with butterflies in his stomach and a warmth in his chest - if it wasn’t for the dog spit involved.   
  
“Can’t hold it against him,” the stranger explains, the pink on his cheeks telling him Keith is not the only one swayed by their touch. “This book is so boring, I would also rather play with a stick.” Keith can see the chuckle vibrating in the stranger’s chest and it makes him flush just a bit deeper. “You could say he saved me from boredom.” The flush gets company from a very warm feeling in his guts when the stranger bends down to pet Kosmo’s ear. “Good boy, Kosmo.”   
  
“I’m Shiro by the way,” the stranger explains while he tries to wipe his book free of dog spit.   
  
“Keith.” He curses at his eloquence. He also curses because he has no tissue ready at hand to offer Shiro. Totally not related to the fact that it would provide another chance for their hands to touch.   
  
“Nice to meet you, Keith.” The smile on Shiro’s lips is bright and warm and Keith wonders if he’s just as nice to every stranger he meets in the park.   
  
“And nice to meet you, too, Kosmo.” Shiro bends down again, his fingers stroking through the dark fur of the wolf-dog. “Next time, make sure to fetch my essays so I have an excuse at work.”

“Believe me, if you need an essay-destroyer, this guy is your best friend”, Keith laughs, speaking from his own experience.    
  
Shiro joins in but stops abruptly when his eyes land on his wristwatch.    
  
“I’m sorry, Keith. I really need to get going.“ Keith can tell he really is very sorry when their eyes meet and he sees disappointment cloud grey orbs. “Have a good evening, Keith. See you around Kosmo.”   
  
And Shiro is off, smiling, spit-wet book in one hand, the other one waving at Keith and his dog.   
  
Leaving Keith with a heavy warmth in his heart.   
  
\--

  
The second time they meet, it’s kind of chaotic, Keith admits.   
  
It’s not as if Keith had not tried to stop himself from thinking about the hot stranger. It just seemed impossible when his head spends every free minute thinking about the broad chest and the thick biceps and the nicest laugh he’s ever heard. 

  
And the fact that his stupid crush-stuck self had been too busy stumbling over his words that he forgot to ask for the stranger’s number.

With nothing but a first name and the knowledge that Shiro’s work involves writing essays, that stupid infatuation of his was doomed to stay a (kind of wet, Keith had to admit) dream.

  
‘It’s Kosmo’s fault,’ Keith hisses, when he leaves his flat that day for their evening walk. His overly enthusiastic dog leads the way and he finds himself in the park just a couple of minutes later.    
  
Keith does not mind, it’s a nice park, with lots of... well, trees. And a small pond. And enough geese for Kosmo to bark at. It’s also a nice evening, just at the threshold where summer bleeds into autumn, and the warm breeze smells like a promise of colder days and hot cocoa afternoons.

He should have noticed something was off with his dog when Kosmo tugs at the leash a bit stronger than usual, his pace more daring. Keith blames it on the nice weather. 

Until he doesn’t.

Until he sees a familiar figure sitting on a bench, gazing over the small pond in the middle of the park. The familiar white floof of hair catches his eye first, reflecting in the soft light of dusk.    
  
His dog eagerly drags him to the bench, happily barking at Shiro. Shiro turns around, startled at first – and Keith hopes he does not imagine how the other guy’s features soften when he recognises him.

Shiro stands up from his bench, taking two steps in the direction of Keith and his dog. “Hey, Keith.” 

Oh fuck him, Shiro’s voice is still amazing.    
  
“Shiro.” One might assume he had learnt from the day before - with all the scenarios and what-ifs his mind had conjured up in the previous 24 hours. Turns out the pure sight of Shiro could reduce him into a stuttering mess.

“What a coincidence to meet you two here again. Two days in a row!” Shiro bends down, greeting Kosmo with a well-placed scratch behind his left ear – close to his favourite scratching spot, Keith chuckles internally.   
  
Kosmo lets out a content woof and it’s enough for Keith to take a deep breath. If he wanted this conversation to go anywhere, he really had to get himself together.   
  
“It’s our usual evening route. You come here often?” Congratulating himself for his ability to form coherent sentences, Keith does not notice how Kosmo starts pacing again.    
  
“I just moved here, and I figured I could read my coursework while the weather is still nice,“ Shiro explained, nodding his head toward the bench where Keith could spot a pile of books and loose papers lying close to a leather briefcase. Combined with the thick framed glasses, Shiro gave off every ‘university professor’ vibe Keith thought possible.    
  
“Seems we keep you from working. I’m sorry.” Scratching his head, just the slightest bit abashed, Keith turns to his dog, who’s still barking, pacing around them.   
  
“I see Kosmo is quite chipper today,” Shiro laughs and Keith can see it ripples from where his button-down stretches over the chest. The chest Keith tries so hard not to stare at.

The chest he suddenly feels himself pressed against, when he stumbles forward, thrown out of balance by a force he cannot pinpoint at first.

  
The first thing Keith notices are the firm muscles right underneath his hands. 

  
The second thing he notices is his nose, pressed between the pectorals he had just admired from afar. 

  
The third thing he notices is the smell, the light mixture of laundry detergent and musk.   
  
The soft vibration of Shiro playfully saying “Hi there” against his cheeks is what gets Keith’s brain back to work.   
  
‘Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit’, keeps running in his mind and he feels his face heating up when he looks up at Shiro. What he thinks is a good idea turns out to make his heart beat faster when he sees the unmistakable pink flush on the other guy’s face. Their eyes meet and from up close, Keith can’t help but find the other man even more attractive.   
  
“I... I’m sorry,” is all Keith can press out, before his dog’s bark makes him break their eye contact. Looking down at the happily woofing culprit, he finally notices what made him stumble.   
  
Kosmo had managed to fully entangled them in his leash when he had encircled them before, binding them together at their ankles, not leaving any space to move.   
  
“Oh, Kosmo. Bad dog!” Keith scolds the dog, who looks at him with the most innocent puppy eyes and making Keith sigh. 

“Shiro, I’m so, so sorry!” Trying to get some distance between their two chests, to make the whole situation at least somewhat less embarrassing, Keith bends back. He still has to support his hands on Shiro’s pecs to keep himself from stumbling over, and he hopes Shiro does not hate him for the awkward situation his dog managed to get them into.   
  
“This must look straight out of a Disney movie,” Shiro laughs instead. Keith does not know which Disney movie he refers to, but this does not stop his cheeks from warming and he joins the chuckle.    
  
Their eyes meet, laughter stopping abruptly.    
  
And from this close, Keith can see Shiro’s features soften into a smile.    
  
It’s terribly endearing, the way Shiro softly hums his name while he bends just the slightest bit closer. It would be so easy just to tip over and give in to the temptation to simply kiss those lips that look too soft to be legal. 

  
He can see Shiro’s eyes flicker down to his lips and that’s when Keith decides ‘Screw it, no turning back now!’ and lifts himself onto his tiptoes, breaching the last few centimeters between them.

What he expects are soft lips on his, maybe a startled gasp.

What he does NOT expect is Kosmo foiling his plans, pulling especially hard at his leash - and sending both men headfirst into the pond. Keith looks up through the wet hair hanging in his face to see his dog’s tail wagging proudly.

If eating his books and pressing him up against a stranger was not enough reason, Keith is sure Shiro hates him by now. 

The pond is not deep, barely a few centimeters, and Keith finds himself on his back in the water, his face the only part of him not soaked through. 

Shiro is next to him, also on his back. Laughing like crazy.    
  
And Keith cannot help but join in.

  
That man’s laughter is just too addictive.

++

  
The third time they meet, it’s nothing short of a disaster.   
  
After their involuntary swim the day before, both men had said their goodbyes too soon for Keith’s liking, excusing themselves off to get home in search for a new pair of clothing. 

Keith cursed himself when he realised that, once again, he had completely forgotten to ask the man for his phone number or his full name. ‘Way to go, Keith,’ he growls to himself as soon as he had closed the apartment door behind him that evening. But his worry is quickly forgotten when Kosmo looks at him with big and loyal eyes while waiting patiently for his food bowl to magically fill itself.   
  
The next evening starts just like the previous two, with Kosmo being especially motivated and tugging at his leash a tad more forcefully, leading Keith straight into the park.    
  
To say he had not expected Shiro to sit on the same bench where they had met the day before would be a lie. And so the disappointment of seeing a couple - grossly in love and eating each other’s tongues - occupying what Keith shamelessly would name “their” bench in his thoughts, can easily be read on his face. 

His dog, softly nuzzling his hand, is a welcomed distraction. Obviously falling into a pond had not been so much of a bonding experience as Keith had liked to believe but rather a deterrence for Shiro.    
  


Suddenly, Kosmo wails. And nudges into his leg a bit stronger. With a heavy heart, Keith turns to his dog. “He’s not here, Kosmo. I’m sorry.” But Kosmo does not seem to care as he starts pacing further into the park, his snout close to the ground, as if scenting something. “You’re not a hunting dog, Kosmo!” Keith laughs as he gets dragged further along. He could easily unleash his dog, but after the (kind of) disaster two days ago that ended in a wrecked book, Keith decides he prefers being able to keep track of his dog. Just in case.    
  
As Kosmo continues scenting, there’s the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, he’s sensing the smell of laundry detergent and musk, of a certain someone with white hair and the nicest voice.   
  


Kosmo stops in his tracks in a clearing, where a big birch tree’s shading the sun. Keith can feel his heart beating faster. Could Shiro be close? 

The dog lets out a happy bark, pacing in circles and delves right into some brambles with a sudden jump.

Doubting that Shiro actually fits underneath the bush, Keith whistles to get his dog’s attention. When Kosmo returns, there’s a tennis ball between his jaws,and he looks at Keith with expecting eyes and a wagging tail.

“Oh, Kosmo!” Keith cannot help but sigh, shaking his head slightly in disbelieve. He kneels down, petting Kosmo’s left ear before taking the ball and unleashing his dog. “Who’s a good boy? Do you want to play fetch?” Kosmo answers with a pant. “So fetch!” 

Keith throws the ball as hard as he can, laughing when his dog jumps after it.

Kosmo returns without the ball, however. 

“Kosmo, no,” Keith laughs when his dog tugs at his pants to signal him to follow. “Where’s your ball?” 

They stop close to the pond and Keith can see why Kosmo did not fetch it. The ball has landed in a goose nest.    
  
It takes about five minutes and two hissing geese for him to finally fetch the tennis ball, but the happy bark he gets from Kosmo is reward enough for Keith.    
  
“Ready for a second try?” he asks when they put a bit of a distance between the geese and themselves. One encounter with hissing poultry was enough for his liking.    
  
With two well-placed woofs, Kosmo bows down on his front paws, excitedly waiting for Keith to throw the ball again – and lunges after it as soon as it’s in the air.   
  
Seeing his dog run so freely never fails to make him happy, Keith thinks, noticing the smile on his lips. Kosmo really is a true blessing.

Said true blessing returns, though, again empty-mouthed. 

Keith was beginning to question his dog’s ability to fetch a ball. 

“Another goose nest?” Keith asks, also questioning his aim.   
  
\--

  
He should have known it was a bad idea to climb the oak tree. Especially when he gets to the slippery moss-covered parts. ‘The things you do for love,’ he growls, as he makes his way up the thee, eyes fixed on the tennis ball stuck between two branches. 

He would much rather spend the evening searching for his white haired dream guy instead of climbing trees for his dog. But since Kosmo has been the reason he met Shiro in the first place, it’s only fair to repay the deed.   
  
“Hope you appreciate my sacrifice, Kosmo!” he shouts down and gets a happy bark in return. Not wanting to slip or lose his balance, Keith does not dare turn towards his dog, but the barking reassures him his canine friend is still watching over him. Maybe falling and landing on Kosmo would cushion a fall? It’s not high enough for him to die, but a broken arm or two is surely not on his to do list for the day.   
  


As he scrambles closer to the tree top, the tennis ball comes into reach, so he extends his arms to grab it, as – “Keith?!” he turns in surprise, slipping on the moss, losing his balance in the momentum - and plunges into the steep drop.   
  
‘Oh fuck!,’ Keith thinks, screaming in shock. Closing his eyes, he dreads the second his bones collide with the ground. 

The bone-shattering impact Keith fears doesn’t come, though. Instead, firm arms encircle his body. And Keith looks directly into Shiro’s warm smile when he opens his eyes.    
  
“You okay?” Fuck him, how could Shiro’s voice be THAT angelic?

  
“Yeah.. Yeah, nothing hurt!” Which Keith is sure of. The only thing out of order is his beating heart and the heat on his face.   
  
“Looks like we managed to get ourselves into another fairy tale situation.” The way Shiro laughs resonates right into where Keith’s arms are pressed against his chest. A soft woof and the light streak of Kosmo’s tail against his legs remind him about the presence of his worrying dog.   
  
“Fairy tale?” Shiro seems to spend a lot of time invested with fairy tales and Disney movies, Keith notices.   
  


“You know, Prince Charming, saving the princess of his dreams, before they can they get married and start their happily ever after?” The sight is endearing, Shiro averting his eyes, a tint of pink forming on his cheeks.    
  
“Princess? You mean me?” Keith’s eyes widen in surprise. “I’m not a princess!”   
  
“My prince, then?” There’s a shy smile on Shiro’s lips as he looks him in the eyes again. It fills his chest with warmth, making it even harder to leave those arms.   
  
Keith does not want to believe his ears. “ _ Your _ prince?”   
  
“Oh.” It seems a sudden realisation darkens Shiro’s face and Keith can see the tiniest hint of sadness. “Oh, I’m sorry, I seem to have misinterpreted something,” Shiro explains, trying to look anywhere but at Keith’s face, while he lets him down.    
  
“No, no! That’snotwhatImeant!” It’s humiliating how loud and fast the words come out, but the sad sound of Shiro’s voice does not leave him with any alternative. He can not let go of where his hands are still touching Shiro’s arms.   
  
“What?” It’s only a whisper, but it hits Keith just right.   
  
“Coffee. Do you want to grab a coffee? Now?!” Keith stumbles over his words as he sees Shiro’s features soften.   
  
A short silence between them is filled with a content bark from Kosmo. 

  
And Shiro smiles. “I’d love that.”   


**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I'll try my best to reply to comments and would love to hear what you think!
> 
> I'm a rambling mess on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/dropsofautumn) so follow me if you like ♡


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